Some families play games together. Other enjoy family picnics, or attending concerts.

My family likes to go antiquing.

It’s just something we do. My daughter-in-law and my niece actually make money by discovering old, dusty, rusty things and selling them. They won’t buy anything unless they think they can sell it for double what they paid for it, and usually they are right.

Jim liked to attend auctions and we have a few of his “finds.” Mostly worthless, but then he bought them because they caught his fancy and he didn’t intend to resell, just enjoy. He collected cobalt blue bottles.

Since I am an agreeable sort of person, I often tag along with whichever family member has the bright idea to spend an afternoon going through junk antique stores, thrift shops, estate sales, yard sales, or whatever is within a reasonable driving limit. My sister once told me it is more fun if you are looking for something definite instead just tagging along while your companion utters shrieks of glad discovery. Or not, if she doesn’t want the dealer to know she is that interested. Yes, part of the fun is bargaining.

One of my first discoveries.

I could have chosen spoons, or thimbles or any small item, but I decided after spotting one sitting forlornly on a crowded shelf, that I would collect sad dogs. Jim bought me a printer’s case after I’d bought a few and later on I bought a glass-front small curio case. I never intended to fill them up, but somehow, I did.

So on my last trip to Georgia, my daughter-in-law gifted me with some very small dogs she had found. I told her I had no more room, but I’d fit them in.

Well, what do you know. On our very first excursion to a thrift store she found a shadow box and pointed it out to me. For $5, I grabbed it.

The newest acquisition is on the right. Look at all the space I have!

Original printer’s case.

So that’s what I did this weekend. I cleaned up the new box, removed some art work to make room for it, and screwed it on the wall. Then I had to clean my printer’s case, and of course, clean all the rather dusty little animals. Yes, animals. I even have an armadillo. I was surprised at how many miniature cats I have, too. But it is still mostly dogs. Not all sad, but each with its own personality.

So now I have space for more.

I have no idea what will happen to this motley crew if or when I finally give up the house and move to an apartment or assisted living. (God forbid! But stuff happens.)

I suppose one of my kids will dump it all off on some poor unsuspecting dealer and let them –er–deal with it.